Season Three Missing Scenes
by Authors Tune
Summary: One-shot missing scenes from the episodes of Season 3. Each missing scene will be posted as a chapter.
1. 3x01 Helpless

**AN: **Whilst I'm awaiting continued motivation and inspiration for my Grey's WIP, I thought I would start some one-shots for the new season of Rizzoli and Isles.

The plan is to do a short missing scene for each episode...there seems to be plenty of opportunities to fill in some gaps. I'm hoping to keep things mostly canon, but we'll see how we go. Rating may change depending on the chapter, but I will give warning for anything specific. Obviously spoilers for Season 3.

Let me know what you think. Cheers, Author's Tune

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**3x01 Missing Scene - Helpless**

"Tell Pike, I want my chair back," Maura stated strongly, voice low and stable. Though her cheeks were stained and her lower eyelids, swelled with the effort at containing the continual gathering of tears.

Jane held her gaze for slightly longer than necessary; a conscious effort to read into Maura's expression, to communicate what words had clearly failed to. She blinked in acknowledgement, it wasn't a message for Pike - it was a message for Jane.

Maura was staying.

She smiled as she walked away, leaving Maura folded over at her own gravestone. The smile lasted a mere moment, the rustling of leaves masking the quite cries behind her. It was such a complex discharge of emotion, an enmeshed sphere of grief, confusion and abandonment. Was it possible to even conceptualise that her existence was tenuous at best. There were no words, no theory, no academia or equation that could quite capture the feeling in Maura's gut. The loneliness was overwhelming.

Pressing the unlock button on her car remote, Jane slid into the driver's seat and placed the key in the ignition. She hesitated then, fingers squeezing the dark plastic, seat belt drawn across her chest but lingering unsecured. She could make out Maura's crumpled form, unmoving with her feet still tucked underneath herself.

Jane watched silently, releasing the restraint and resting her hands on her lap. She couldn't leave; she wouldn't leave a stranger sobbing in a cemetery, let alone the woman she still firmly believed to be her closest confidante. Anger always masked hurt, and Maura was angry. Really angry, with her; with her actions.

But she couldn't just drive away and leave her, so broken. Yet, she couldn't force herself on Maura; she had asked Jane to leave. _Please go._

Jane internally cursed herself, a string of expletives and self-denigrating terms cursing through her mind. Maura had been talking to her, sharing the fragile conclusions she was trying to process as she stared at her own name, carved eternally in stone. And with Jane's calmness, the nonchalant persona she forced herself to emit under the disillusion that it was exactly what Maura's needed; the emotional sandy blonde withdrew. How things can change in the blink of an eye.

In the pull of a trigger.

So Jane sat in her car, motionless, eyes fixed on reading Maura's body language. The obvious shake of her shoulders and the hands that raked through her loose hair. Still, minutes ticked past and Maura didn't make an effort to move. To slowly rise from the grass, designer skirt crushed and knees aching with each step in her towering heels.

Dusk fell eventually, the sun falling behind trees and buildings, casting a fading golden light across the horizon. The wind gained momentum and a lingering chill rushed through the eerie graveyard and found it's way into the small gaps between door seals and window edges of Jane's car.

As darkness started to envelope, she reached for the door handle and opened her door, slowly stepping out of the car. She left the door ajar, conscious of the way every movement echoed across the deserted lines of buried hopes and desolate dreams.

And then she weaved her way to the side of Maura, coming to a stop a few yards away. Maura went oblivious to her presence, vacantly staring into the darkness. "So, I'm thinking I would know by now if you're a vampire," Jane murmured uncomfortably, an awkward laugh resonating in her throat.

Maura physically jumped into consciousness, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. After a moment of delayed recognition, Maura exhaled a heavy sigh of relief, eyes darting around her surroundings in confusion. "It got dark," she observed quietly, using the pads of her fingers to smooth dried tear tracks from her cheeks.

"I thought I would take you home."

Maura shook her head. "My car is here."

"I know," Jane said, cocking her head to the side and rolling on her feet. "I'll take care of it, get it dropped outside your place."

"You don't need to do that, I'm perfectly capable of driving."

Jane hesitated, feeling the sting of Maura's frostiness return. "You're upset," she observed. "Will you let me make sure you get home okay? I won't stay."

Maura blinked, closing her eyes and waiting momentarily before opening them again. "You waited here?" she asked, forehead creasing as if trying to conceptualise the hours she had misplaced.

"You're upset," Jane repeated, as if the conclusion was obvious. "I just, well, I wanted to give you time, and not intrude. But I couldn't just leave you here, like this."

Maura looked to her left and right before placing her open palms on the grass and rolling on to the balls of her feet. She winced at the pain stabling through her knees as she forced them to extend, pausing in a crouched position.

Jane took half a step towards her and extended her hand slightly, self-consciously retracting her arms and folding them at her chest. She nervously stubbed her boots into the grass. She could hardly believe that just a few days before she wouldn't have thought twice about hoisting Maura to her feet and capturing her in a comforting hug. But things had changed.

"Really, I can drive myself."

"Maura," Jane muttered softly, the word rolling off her tongue like it always had. Maura glanced at her and their gaze met under the soft artificial streetlights casting shadows across the darkening surroundings. Maura's chin shuddered and she drew her lower lip into her mouth by her teeth, emotion continuing to bubble at the surface. "Please," Jane pleaded, "just let me drive you home."

Maura didn't respond, just held her stare for a moment longer before dropping her eyes to the ground. She carefully raised herself to stand, unsteady. The prospect of going home was suddenly unappealing; there was no one at home anymore. "It's like I don't belong anywhere anymore," she whispered, though more to herself than Jane, an unassuming witness. "I don't know what to do next."

Jane nodded, unfolding her arms and pushing both hands into trouser pockets. "And I know," she said slowly and deliberately, "that you hate me…" She trailed off, considering how to articulate clearly what she wanted to say.

Maura interrupted her quickly though, voice soft and exuding sadness. "I don't hate you. I'm just so angry, with you. At everything."

Nodding, Jane sighed. She preferred the fired up, assertive Maura; the one that didn't sound so lost and defeated. "I know." The apology wouldn't quite roll off her lips though, and every part of her was screaming at her to utter a string of repentant pleas. "Don't think about it now."

Maura scoffed, a sob caught in her throat and her eyes filled with tears. She cupped her face with one hand and squeezed the bridge of her nose with the other. "There's nothing else to think about."

"You can still be angry at me, tomorrow," Jane said, glancing over her shoulder and back at her car. "But," she murmured, and indicated with a short wave of her hand, "I think you would be more…it would be better for you to be at home."

Maura's mind reeled, home had become so empty, just more reminders of her abandonment. In that moment, nothing felt like home. "You don't need to…" Maura murmured quietly, voice trailing off into the cool night air. She shivered; she wasn't sure she would be as tolerant, as persistent as Jane was being with her. Subconsciously, she was pushing, testing Jane's alliance. People had only ever disappointed her; she wasn't convinced that the vulnerability she had allowed Jane was worth the hurt she was currently experiencing. That she was presently absorbed in; lost.

Dropping her hands from her face, Maura articulated a hoarse _yes_, though it was barely audible. Jane waited, following a step behind Maura as she walked to her car, not quite sure she had heard correctly. Maura slid into the passenger seat, closing the door and securing her belt before staring directly ahead. She placed her hands in her lap and entwined her fingers, knuckles white at the immediate grip she had, trying to keep the tears tracking over her cheekbones to a minimum.

Jane stepped in a moment later, silently starting the car and reversing onto the vacant street that surrounded the cemetery. They drove a few blocks, working their way towards Maura's, screeching breaks and distant sirens in the peripheral of their senses. "You going to be okay tonight?" Jane asked tentatively, hands sliding around the steering wheel as she turned at a changing set of lights.

Maura nodded, swallowing heavily and closing her eyes in a prolonged blink. "Yes," she confirmed.

"I can send Ma back over," Jane offered, guilt settling heavily in her chest.

"That's not necessary," Maura muttered, desperate to get out of Jane's car and into the safety of her residence, if only so that she could slide down to the floor and unashamedly sob into exhaustion.

"I want to help," Jane said softly, indicating and pulling up on the side of the street, just a few short steps away from Maura's front door.

Maura reached for the door handle and pulled it, holding the door open with one hand and stepping a foot to the bitumen. She stifled a small cry, stomach muscles clenching at the effort before whispering, "No one can."

And then she was gone.


	2. 3x02 Gratitude

**AN: **Thank you to everyone for your reviews, alerts and interest in the first chapter. I'm glad you're interested in reading these short missing scenes - here's hoping I can keep it up for the entire season! :-) Thanks again, I really appreciate your feedback and messages.

Cheers, Author's Tune

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**Missing Scene 3x02 - Gratitude**

Maura stirred, eyes opening and then closing again, a few more minutes passing before she repeated the same process. Squinting against the dull light being thrown from the lampshade in the corner. She raised her head off the back of the sofa and creaked her neck; it cracked under the pressure. 'Morning," Jane said with a grin, stepping towards her from the kitchen.

Maura gave her a panicked look in return. "Surely it's not," she murmured, patting the cushions either side of her in search of her phone.

"It's not. You've just dozed for the last hour or so. Come on, I'll help you to bed."

"They've all left?"

"Oh yeah, sickened by our truce I think. And Ma was threatening to braid your hair, so I had to send her on her way."

Maura's expression filled with confusion. "Why would your mother possibly be intending to braid my hair?"

"She used to do it to me when I was a kid," Jane explained, curling a leg underneath herself as she sat down on the lounge next to Maura, blanket slightly askew and tapping at her knee. "Whenever I was sick or hurt, she would braid my hair. I think she thought it made me feel better, never really did." Jane shrugged, aware she was rambling.

"I don't really want my hair braided, peoples hands have all kinds of weird bacteria. I only shampoo every second day." Even as she spoke, Maura's eyes threatened to close, long eyelashes interfering with her vision.

Jane rolled her eyes, Maura's eccentricities were clear, even when she was half asleep and edged by painkillers. "You ready to literally _hop_ to bed?"

Maura shook her head, oblivious to Jane's infantile attempt at humour. "I'm okay here."

"You can't stay here all night," Jane insisted, holding her hands palm up in the air, perplexed. And after a minute of waiting for a response, asked, "what's wrong, Maura?"

"Nothing's wrong," she countered carefully, mind working at justifying her words into half truths.

"You don't seem to be in any pain, but I can get your prescription for you if you want."

"No, thank you."

"Come on, Maura. I cut your leg open today; covered my hands in your blood and then spent forever trying to get you conscious. You _can_ talk to me."

Maura opened her mouth to argue Jane's clear misuse of the infinity concept, but hesitated and secured her dry lips together again. She dropped her head back to the sofa, turning slightly so that her cheek pressed against the soft material and she faced Jane. "I'm so grateful," she said quietly, "that you saved my leg."

Jane smiled coyly. "I know, you've already thanked me. You'll make an M.E. out of me yet."

Almost curling her lips into a smile, Maura nodded slowly, eyes dull and glazed, the sclera bloodshot. "I don't think so."

"Come on," Jane said, shifting her weight and reaching a hand out to curl around Maura's wrist, resting on her lap. "You just look exhausted, we can talk more tomorrow."

"I'm sorry," Maura murmured, voice dropping again. "For taking everything out on you; I was so…confused."

Shaking her head, Jane squeezed her fingers, shaking Maura's arm slightly. "Stop this, we've done the apology thing. We're all good." Maura shrugged, tears filling her eyes. "Maura," Jane sighed, "It's all fine. We're both here and in one piece, we survived today and everything else."

Drawing her hands away from Jane's loosened grasp, Maura lingered the pads of her fingers under her lower eyelids and blinked slowly. A few slow tears tumbled onto her fingertips. "I'm just going to stay out here tonight."

Jane inhaled, gradually drawing in a breath before slowly releasing it. She stared at Maura; trying to regain the eye contact that Maura had torn away, eyes fixated on the corner of the far wall now. "Okay," Jane said after a prolonged silence and shifted her body, turning so that she could place her bare feet on the coffee table and leant back. She squirmed momentarily, conforming her body into the soft cushions and throw pillows. "You going to share that blanket? It's freezing for some reason."

Maura looked to the blanket and back to Jane, a fresh flow of tears welling. She dropped her head, sniffling and let her forehead fall to Jane's shoulder. With her mouth agape, Maura softly cried whilst Jane held perfectly still. Jane debated internally of her best action, not entirely sure why Maura was crying, let alone why she was weeping with the most tenuous of physical connections. Her tears dropped to the sofa. "It's alright," Jane soothed huskily. "Everything's fine, okay?" She didn't receive a response, just the sound of a few more quiet whimpers. "Now," Jane said after a few moments, awkwardly unfolding Maura's blanket and covering both of their laps. She rested an open hand on Maura's thigh, the thick throw gathered under her palm. "You're not going to make me watch some documentary until we fall asleep are you?"

A hiccupped sob resonated from beside her before the pleasant sound of a soft laugh. "You choose," Maura whispered, eyes squeezed shut as she tried to halt the swelling emotion.

"Crap," Jane cursed, tossing the remote control to the other side of Maura. "You're so upset that you're letting me pick what we watch. I can't cope, Maura."

Another weak chuckle resounded from the chair and Maura lifted her tear stained cheeks to emulate Jane's position on the lounge. "It's so good to have you back."

"Missed me, hey?" Jane teased, hesitant to revisit the conversation that had brought her own emotion tumbling into her throat and eyes just a few hours earlier.

Maura nodded. "Yes," she replied simply.

"Me too," Jane agreed, patting Maura's thigh where her hand still lingered comfortingly. "And," she began after a few moments. "I particularly missed you housing my mother, I do not cope living with her. Not one bit."

"Angela can come home whenever she likes."

"Oh thank God, I was going to have to have to start putting up flyers shortly."

"Could be worse," Maura suggested, rubbing tiredly at her eyes with the knuckles of her index fingers.

"Mmmm?"

"Angela and I could have had a shoot out…"

Jane's breath caught in her throat and she turned her head, eyes wide and expression shocked, cautious of the fight she feared could escalate. Maura grinned in return and Jane released a long breath in relief, heat starting to fall back down her neck. "Don't do that to me," Jane muttered, one hand to her chest in an effort to slow her heart rate.

"Too soon?" Maura asked, relaxed and wrapping two hands around Jane's forearm, where it shadowed her hipbone.

"Yes Maura, definitely too soon," Jane said, laughing. "Get some rest," she insisted quietly, the changing dynamic of the room palpable.

"You're staying out here?"

"Yeah, I'm staying out here. Is that alright?"

Maura nodded, though her eyes drifted closed and the soft glow of the television reflected the dried tear tracks over her cheek bones and down to her jawline. They disappeared below her neck. "Please."

"Okay," Jane confirmed.

"Okay," Maura mimicked, dancing on the edge of sleep. "Thanks."


	3. 3x03 Struggle

**Missing Scene 3x03 - Struggle**

Maura waited patiently outside, the uncomfortable bench seat lacking in any kind of physical cosiness. She recrossed her legs multiple times, tapping her high heels against the pavers and checking the time on her watch repeatedly. She couldn't imagine that communication between Jane and Casey would go well, he had been back and hadn't bothered to contact her. It was hardly an indication of his keenness to re-establish a relationship with her.

So Maura sat, eyes glazed as she stared into the foliage and contemplated her own erratic few days. There was something about having a body on her autopsy table show signs of life, that had tapped into some deep seeded fears and her erratic behaviour in the days that followed could only be described as out of character. There was still a feeling, in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't quite shake; yet she was immensely grateful for Jane's impending crisis as a distraction.

And timely enough, as Maura's mind tangentially ran away with itself, Jane pushed open the door and stride towards her. She was a picture of disappointment.

Within moments, Maura conceded to the debrief over boxed Shiraz, though with arms looped, she was already planning on opening one of her vintage reds. Honestly, Jane would never know the difference. It was a short drive to Maura's and for once, Maura drove while Jane sniffled her way past the darkened houses, intermitted with some poor attempts at humour; sarcasm really.

"Settle yourself on the lounge," Maura directed, pushing Jane's back slightly, an open palm between her exposed shoulder blades. "I'll pour our glasses."

"Okay," Jane murmured, swallowing at the lump that had seemed to grow as she walked through the door. She sighed heavily, kicking off her boots and settling down, legs folder underneath her.

Maura returned quickly, with two over filled glasses. She handed one to Jane and placed her own on the coffee table. "I'll just prepare a few nibbles for us, something to absorb the alcohol." She grinned and Jane appeased her with a small smile.

"I really am, so sorry, Jane," Maura said softly, lingering at the edge of the room. "He doesn't know what he's missing out on." She stopped short of suggesting Jane was better off with out him; she had learned over the years that those kind of comments weren't even remotely beneficial. Just empty, ridiculous justifications.

Jane nodded, eyes refilling with tears before she drew her gaze away and focussed on the cushion in front of her. She used her fingertips to trace the embroidery, working a thread loose. Maura disappeared into the kitchen, arranging a few items on a platter before returning. Jane had managed to drink half the glass in the short time it took her to arrange a blue vein cheese, some wafer thin rice crackers and a trail mix with dried fruit, mixed nuts and some dark chocolate coated goji berries.

Maura settled down next to Jane, leaning back and sipping at the 2005 Merlot she had poured them. She observed Jane quietly, waiting for her to break the silence. "Even I know that this isn't a Shiraz and it definitely hasn't come from a flagon," Jane said, slightly teasing as she held the glass up in front of her.

Maura shrugged and shook her head. "No," she agreed, "I had a few bottles out, may as well drink them."

"I could do with a _few_ tonight," Jane confirmed.

They sat quietly for a few moments, sipping from their glasses and consuming a slice of cheese each. "Maybe he's having some difficulties, from his last deployment. PTSD or generalised anxiety; depression."

"So what, he decides I'm nothing to him? Because he's been traumatised?"

"Trauma impacts on different people in different ways."

"Yeah well, I've seen enough of my own trauma without having to deal with his," Jane bit back, anger merging with the sadness. "At some point my luck has to change, right?"

"Luck?" Maura explored, expression questioning.

"Yeah, am I that unlovable? Surely at some point I have to have a relationship that works out, isn't that how it works?"

"Oh honey," Maura said, shaking her head. "I'm not one to give relationship advice but I don't think it's you that's the issue here. Casey probably doesn't know what he wants, and it's easier for him not to have to think about it. It's easier for him to just push you away."

Jane rolled her eyes, biting down on her lower lip. "It sucks."

Smiling slightly at the ineloquence, Maura nodded. "Yes, yes it does."

"Think I can drink my body weight tonight?"

"Drink as much as you like, consider it medicinal."

"I'm not sure you're meant to recommend that I write myself off," Jane said softly, tipping the glass to her lips and gulping down the last few mouthfuls. "Not usually what the Doctor orders."

"Yes, well, I think you've earned a few lately." Maura reached out and squeezed Jane's arm, fingers wrapping around her bicep, just above the curve of her elbow. Jane calmed her posture, losing some of the tenseness and tearfully meeting Maura's concerned glance. "Are you alright, though?" she asked hesitantly, not really asking about the Casey situation. "I mean, generally. We haven't talked much since…well, since everything."

Unwilling or unable to answer, Jane just held Maura's gaze, her mind racing for a range of different answers. She couldn't find it in herself to simply answer _no_; the prospect seemed too vulnerable, too honest. Everything else just seemed like a brush off, inconsequential utterings. Maura slowly moved her thumb back and forth, maintaining her loose grip and Jane made no effort to draw away from the gentle touch. A tear fell from Jane's eye, hitting the soft skin of her cheekbone before tumbling to her lap. "Obviously coping well," Jane muttered, awkwardly laughing.

Maura cocked her head to the side and gave a look of empathy, saddened by the role she had played in compounding Jane's stress. "It's not just Casey…" she murmured, trailing off.

Tearing her gaze away, Jane held up her empty glass. "Clearly, the issue is that I'm out of wine. Is the bottle on the bench?"

"Here," Maura intercepted quickly, "I'll get it." She took the glass and briefly went to the kitchen, pausing with two hands on the island bench top, drawing in a few calming breaths. She returned with the bottle, refilling Jane's glass before handing it to her and topping up her own. With the large glasses, the wine was empty. She placed another, held securely under her arm on to the table. "To save us getting up," she explained with a soft smile.

"Thanks." Jane leant forward and cut some cheese, dropping a few brazil nuts in her mouth before topping a cracker with the blue vein. An easy silence fell between them, just the clock on the wall infusing with their internal thoughts and dialogue. "I think," Jane said after a while, shivering at the cooling night, "that I'm just really tired. Exhausted."

"It's been a while, since you had a break."

Jane nodded. "I can't remember the last time I had a full night's sleep – you know, uninterrupted by work or family dramas." Or the nightmares that had changed and morphed but still haunted her during the early hours of the morning.

"The body needs sleep; even Jane Rizzoli's," Maura said softly, maintaining a lightness and non-accusatory tone.

Jane narrowed her eyes but agreed, muttering, 'yeah yeah."

"I would like to help," Maura offered slowly, holding her head up with her hand, elbow on the back of the lounge chair. "Honestly, is there anything? Anything at all?" Jane blushed, embarrassment rushing across her expression. She shrugged. "I'm just, I know that our lives have been and still are crazy; it's surreal. And I'm here, if you want to drink to inebriation or want to talk things through. Or if you want to hide in my guest room for a few nights, it's nice to not be alone sometimes too."

"It's so much better now, that we're not fighting." The words were rasped out, voice strained and colour slowly draining away from her face. "I've been a crappy daughter, sister – now and over the years. And I've been such an awful friend, I shot your father, Maura. I actually shot your biological father under the protection of my badge and I never even apologised. And now Casey, what do I have to do? One day I'm going to be old and decrepit, I'm going to die alone in some run down apartment building."

"Would you like me to argue each of those points with logic and reality? Or would you accept a hug and we'll save rationality for sobriety?"

Jane responded with a tearful laugh, holding her glass out to the side as Maura rolled forward and wrapped one arm around Jane's neck and with slight pressure, held her tightly. Jane allowed her chin to rest on Maura's shoulder briefly, exhaling a long breath. "Maybe if you still have those feather pillows, I could stay in your guest room for a night or two?"

"Of course," Maura said softly. "And," she continued faintly, "you are so loved and will never, ever be alone." Releasing Jane, Maura sat back, holding an open palm to Jane's cheek and met her tear filled eyes before nodding, waiting for an acknowledgement. She received it in way of a half shrug and some hastily brushed at eyes. "And you know, you are welcome here any time and for as long as you want."

"Thank you."

"I do need to restock the beer though, your brothers drank it all – celebrating our brush with death, your operating skills and I suspect, my physical inability to stop them from working their way through the entire case."

"Yeah, I think you need to actually. This red wine is turning me into a soppy mess."

Maura shook her head, observing her glass closely before taking a long sip. "It's a misconception you know, that certain alcohols result in an altered emotional state. Research shows that…"

"Shhhh Maura," Jane interrupted, tipping her glass to her lips and wiping further at her wet cheeks and lower eyelids. "Let me have my feeble excuse."

Maura grinned, reaching out and tapping Jane's knee. "Okay," she conceded, relaxing back and resting her head against the back of the sofa, long hair spreading over her shoulders. It was as much as she was going to get out of Jane that evening, but it was better than nothing. A few short sentences; honesty creeping out between the routine of sarcasm and jesting.

Sometimes it felt good to be back in the old patterns, as complicated and complex as they may be. Until the next crisis at least.


End file.
